Chapter 41 – The Monster Floor
Chapter 41 – The Monster Floor
The Tower trembled.
A deep metallic sound echoed through every floor.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
The vibration wasn’t caused by an attack.
It was the Tower itself changing.
The sound rolled through the structure like the heartbeat of some ancient creature awakening after an eternity of silence.
Every remaining participant stopped where they stood.
Even those already engaged in battle instinctively looked upward.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then the mechanical voice of the Trial Tower resonated throughout the entire structure.
Final Phase Initiated
Remaining Participants: 1,024
The rules have changed.
Individual Trials have ended.
Floor Seven has merged into a Shared Battlefield.
Survive.
Defeat.
Ascend.
A heavy silence followed.
Then the Tower trembled again.
Azrael felt space twist around him.
The staircase beneath his feet suddenly vanished.
His body dropped for a fraction of a second before a blinding flash engulfed his vision.
He instinctively crossed his arms.
The sensation lasted only an instant.
When the light faded...
He found himself standing atop the ruins of an ancient city.
Collapsed towers stretched toward a crimson sky.
Some leaned against one another like dying giants, while others had been completely split apart.
Broken bridges connected shattered buildings, their remaining sections swaying dangerously above enormous gaps.
Deep chasms divided entire districts.
Far below, lava flowed beneath the streets, illuminating the cracks between ancient stones with an eerie orange glow.
Violent storms raged overhead.
Lightning repeatedly tore across the crimson clouds, revealing distant ruins for brief moments before darkness swallowed them again.
Azrael slowly turned in place.
There were no walls.
No clearly defined arena.
No safe zone.
The city stretched in every direction.
This battlefield wasn’t designed for a duel.
It was designed for war.
A translucent screen appeared before him.
Floor Seven
The Monster Floor
Participants: 1,024
Objective:
Reach the Celestial Beacon at the city’s center.
Rules:
Participants may cooperate...
...or eliminate one another.
The Beacon activates after six hours.
Azrael read the final line twice.
Six hours.
That was enough time for alliances to form, betrayals to happen, and hundreds of participants to disappear.
He slowly smiled.
"So it’s finally become a battle royale."
His eyes sharpened.
"Much better."
A battle wasn’t supposed to happen inside an empty arena.
It should be unpredictable.
There should be terrain.
Multiple enemies.
Limited information.
Unexpected alliances.
And consequences for every decision.
Azrael closed his eyes.
His Origin Perception expanded.
The crimson city immediately became alive within his senses.
Hundreds of auras entered his perception.
Some were fighting.
Some were hiding.
Some were already moving toward the center.
Others were deliberately moving away from it, likely intending to ambush participants traveling toward the Celestial Beacon.
Among them...
He recognized familiar presences.
Marcus.
Ryan.
Sophia.
Elena.
Seraphina.
Lucian.
Valeria.
And dozens of terrifying geniuses he had never met before.
Azrael opened his eyes.
So everyone had been brought here.
That changed things.
He hadn’t expected the Tower to place all remaining participants on the same battlefield.
Before he could decide where to move—
A killing intent exploded behind him.
Azrael didn’t turn.
He bent his knees.
A spear tore through the space where his neck had been.
The weapon passed so close that he felt the wind brush against his skin.
Instead of retreating...
He stepped forward.
The attacker’s eyes widened.
"Why would he move closer?"
Azrael’s left hand grabbed the spear shaft.
His right hand drove Astraeus toward the opponent’s shoulder.
The attacker instantly released the weapon and rolled backward.
The sword narrowly missed.
Azrael glanced at the abandoned spear.
Good.
He abandoned the weapon instead of stubbornly holding it.
A trained fighter.
The young man rose and summoned another spear from his spatial ring.
His body lowered.
His weight shifted to his rear leg.
The tip of the spear never stopped moving.
It constantly threatened multiple angles.
Azrael narrowed his eyes.
Experienced.
The spear user smiled.
"I’ve watched your previous fights."
"So?"
"I know you prefer counterattacking."
Azrael’s expression didn’t change.
The moment those words left his mouth—
He didn’t attack.
Instead...
He kicked a broken pillar.
The enormous stone structure groaned.
Then collapsed toward Azrael.
Not to crush him...
To limit his movement.
At the same time—
Three throwing spears shot through the dust cloud.
One aimed for his chest.
One for his left knee.
One toward where his head would move if he dodged naturally.
"A trap."
Azrael instantly understood.
His opponent wasn’t trying to overwhelm him.
He was predicting his reactions.
Azrael flapped one Eclipse Wing.
Not both.
Using both would waste energy.
The single wingbeat twisted his body just enough.
The first spear grazed his shoulder.
The second missed entirely.
Instead of avoiding the third...
He struck it sideways with Astraeus.
CLANG!
The redirected spear flew back into the dust.
A curse echoed from within the cloud.
The enemy had nearly been hit by his own attack.
Azrael immediately closed the distance.
Not by sprinting.
By controlling angles.
Every step forced the spearman to rotate.
Every rotation weakened the leverage of his weapon.
The young man recognized the danger immediately and tried to create distance.
But Azrael stayed inside his preferred range.
Long weapons dominated at range.
Inside two meters...
They became liabilities.
The spearman reacted instantly.
He released one end of the spear.
The weapon contracted.
Runes flashed across its surface.
The long spear transformed into two short blades.
Azrael smiled.
"So that’s your trick."
Steel met steel.
CLANG!
Not once.
Not twice.
Thirty-seven exchanges erupted within seconds.
The sounds of metal echoed throughout the ruined street.
Every collision sent sparks through the dust-filled air.
Neither fighter landed a decisive hit.
The spearman used flowing combinations.
Low slash.
Feint.
Reverse grip.
Spin.
Elbow strike.
His movements were efficient and practiced.
He wasn’t simply swinging his blades.
Every attack was designed to force a reaction.
Azrael answered with the efficient swordsmanship he had learned from the Nameless Sword Saint.
He never chased the blades.
He watched the opponent’s shoulders.
The hips.
The feet.
Because the body revealed attacks before the weapon did.
The spearman suddenly shifted his weight.
His eyes moved left.
A feint.
Azrael recognized it.
His opponent’s shoulders hadn’t followed the movement.
Azrael stepped diagonally instead of backward.
Astraeus slid along one blade before locking against the second.
For less than half a second, both weapons were trapped.
That was enough.
Azrael’s knee struck the opponent’s ribs.
CRACK!
The spearman stumbled.
Air escaped his lungs.
His formation broke.
Azrael could have continued.
Instead...
He retreated three steps.
The opponent looked confused.
"Why stop?"
Azrael lowered Astraeus.
"You’ve already lost."
The young man instinctively looked down.
A shallow cut crossed his chest.
It had been created during one of their previous exchanges.
The wound wasn’t deep.
But something else was wrong.
Silver-black energy quietly spread from the injury.
A translucent notification appeared before Azrael.
Eclipse Mark Applied
Effect:
All future attacks against the marked target gain increased precision and resonance.
The spearman’s expression changed.
"So..."
Azrael said calmly.
"Now the fight begins."
The young man’s grip tightened around his twin blades.
He suddenly understood.
The earlier exchanges hadn’t been meaningless.
Azrael had been learning his movements.
Testing his reactions.
Waiting for the right opening.
The mark was the final piece.
For the first time since entering the Trial Tower...
Azrael’s combat no longer relied on overwhelming talent.
It relied on reading.
Adapting.
Creating openings.
Controlling the battlefield.
And understanding the opponent.
The spearman charged again.
This time, Azrael didn’t wait for the attack.
He stepped forward.
Their weapons collided beneath the crimson sky as thunder rolled across the ruined city.
Far above the battlefield, a hidden observation chamber overlooked the entire Floor Seven.
Headmaster Orion watched the exchange through a massive crystal projection.
A satisfied smile slowly appeared on his face.
"Now..."
He whispered.
"He’s beginning to fight like an Aetherion."
Beside him, several instructors remained silent.
They had watched thousands of candidates enter the Trial Tower.
They had seen geniuses with overwhelming bloodlines.
They had seen monsters who could crush opponents through raw strength.
But what Azrael was developing was different.
He wasn’t merely becoming stronger.
He was learning how to use strength.
And deep within the Trial Tower, an ancient voice echoed to itself.
"Excellent..."
"Evolution is no longer merely changing the body."
A pause followed.
Then the ancient voice continued.
"He has begun evolving his way of battle."
Below, Azrael’s sword collided with the twin blades once more.
The shockwave shattered the remaining windows of a nearby building.
Across the ruined city, thousands of other participants were beginning their own battles.
Some would form alliances.
Some would betray them.
Some would hunt.
Some would hide.
And some would never reach the Celestial Beacon.
The final phase had begun.
The Trial Tower was no longer testing whether they possessed enough strength to survive.
It was testing what they would become when survival depended on their choices.
And somewhere beyond the crimson clouds...
The Celestial Beacon began to glow.
The real Academy Arc had finally begun.